Kurohama Pier sat on the far bank of the river, just outside Oroshika's reach. Here, the skyline wasn't towers of glass and steel but squat warehouses, leaning inns, and vendor stalls crowding the narrow streets. The air smelled of brine, coal smoke, and the faint bitterness of old wood rotting at the waterline.
Beyond the pier, the great bridge arched toward Oroshika proper, its iron frame veined with glowing wards. Travelers clustered at its mouth, haulers with crates lashed to carts, merchants counting coin, families clutching worn suitcases. Ferries rocked at the moorings for those unwilling or unfit to cross on foot, their crews barking prices over the noise.
Renny stood at the railing, eyes fixed on the city across the water. Oroshika rose from the far shore like some impossible monument, tier after tier of light and shadow, its tallest spires spearing through the crimson haze. Even here, in Hell, beauty was beauty. And Oroshika… Oroshika was something worth staring at.
His phone buzzed.He slid it from his pocket, thumb brushing the screen. Another unknown number.
"From here, go to Akagiri Wharf. There, we talk."
He glanced around Kurohama Pier, eyes moving over the press of travelers, dockhands, and shouting merchants, all while searching for any sign of Akagiri Wharf. Not seeing it, he asked a merchant, who pointed toward the far end of the river. Renny thanked him and headed that way.
***
Renny arrived at the bar, a low wooden structure by the pier. Most of its walls weren't walls at all but wide glass panes, so you could see everyone inside, and they could see you. Warm lamplight spilled through the glass, mixing with the pale shimmer of the water outside.
Inside, people sat scattered around tables and stools, but one figure stood out. Alone. Brown hat tilted forward, leather jacket over a plain shirt, worn jeans, timberlands. He raised his glass of beer when he spotted Renny and waved him over.
"Oy… sit. We don't have much time," he said as Renny approached.
"Who are you? And what do you know about me?" Renny asked the moment he sat.
"Slow down," the man said, calm as ever. "I am the one who called ya here, remember?" He jerked his chin at the bar attendant. "Oy! Beer for him."
"I'll pass," Renny said.
The man smirked. "Hah… this is Hell. Beer shouldn't be what ya worried about."
"That's not it," Renny replied. "I've just never had beer in my life."
The man froze for half a beat, then burst into a laugh loud enough to turn heads. "Never had beer… and ya in Hell? Perfect."
The attendant returned with two drinks. The man slid one toward Renny. "First time for everything. Cheers."
They clinked glasses. Renny took a cautious sip and his face twisted instantly.
"Oy! Ya really haven't had beer before," the man laughed.
Draining his own glass, he set it down with a thud. "I am, Tela Osupa."
"That's not a Mark name," Renny said.
"Ney," Tela said, shaking his head. "Because I am no demon."
That caught Renny off guard.
"I am an ex-Rotman," Tela continued.
"A what?"
"A Rotman, one of the seven messengers of the Royal Trees of Hell. Well… there were seven. Now six. Every Mark name comes from one of those Trees."
Renny's brows knit together. "You said once seven, now six… does that mean I belong to the seventh?"
Tela nodded repeatedly. "Ya! And not just belong, ya the seventh. Never by mark, but by the Ezraphor seed, which dwells in ya."
Renny was getting even more confused, but before he could ask another question, Tela's eyes shifted. He sensed something. Renny sensed it too. The atmosphere around them was changing.
The shades were deepening, thick like oil spilling across glass. The pier, the water, even the sky seemed to darken, but the change wasn't touching everyone.
It was as if the shadow realm itself was forcing its way into this space, layering over the normal world like a second skin. The human world continued untouched, but Renny and Tela were already somewhere else, sitting in the same place, yet in a different reality entirely.
"What's going on?" Renny asked quickly.
"It was only a matter of time… they're here." Tela said.
"Who?"
A distant sound broke through the thickening silence, dogs barking.
"The Rotmen," Tela replied.
"Are they here to see me too?"
Tela let out a short, humorless laugh. "Hah...never. They're here to kill me. Because I'm the last thing that knows what you truly are… and can help you become just that."
The barks were getting closer, the shadow layer sealing over the pier. The humans moved normally around them.
"Ya must escape quickly, before they get here," Tela said, rising to his feet. "I will hold them off."